It's not the winning, it's the falling apart

On Thursday at 9.30pm I got a call from my distressed teenage daughter. 'Mum, something horrible is happening. Make it stop.'

I knew something horrible was happening because I was watching it too.

She was in her big sister's bedroom watching Celebrity Big Brother. I was watching it in mine. The man of the house was absent because he considers himself above such nonsense.

Anyway, my daughter had called me on my mobile - such is family life - because she was so disturbed by the sight of George Galloway pretending to be a pussy, lapping up imaginary milk by Rula Lenska's thigh while she stroked him.

I confess I could not reassure her, for it was indeed truly horrendous. Was he saluting another Rula's indefatigability? It was more humiliating surely than even his meetings with Saddam. It was his total conviction that he was a pussycat that was so mind-blowing.

This is the genius of this programme: these gems that cut like diamonds through the silted crust of ego and the tortuous selfobsession of celebrity culture. A thousand academic books deconstructing the nature of modern celebrity could not match the insights gleaned from watching a format that is designed so that the 'celebrities' deconstruct themselves live.

Is it cruel and voyeuristic? At its best. And the annual gorefest usually has one person who imagines themselves not only cleverer than the other contestants but cleverer than the entire production team who will edit them. Last year it was Germaine Greer. This year it is Galloway. Neither have shown themselves in the best light.

Unlike I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here, where everyone was nice and got on together (yawn), the BB house this year is full of exactly what is needed - deranged narcissists, and the lovely Maggot.

However gratuitously nasty it is, though, we must remember that it is always the nicest and most decent person who wins. The public are not stupid and nor, by the way, are 'young people'.

My kids are appalled that an 'old man' [Galloway] thinks he can appeal to them by going on this show. It is the equivalent of their headmaster rapping.

They are also appalled at the behaviour of Denis Rodman, who skulks around trying to have sex with every woman by grunting and making lewd remarks.

Finally I see what Madonna saw in Guy Ritchie, who must have seemed the height of sophistication after that.

And then there is the incoherent wreck called Barrymore, who is usually sobbing in a hoodie somewhere. If this is an attempt to resurrect his career it is impossible to see what that career might be - except one that involves sitting by a cash machine. Still, he has been kissed by Gorgeous George in a dressing gown, who wants him to win. Why? What peculiar facet of Galloway's personality makes him champion those who have done very bad things?

As for him calling Jodie Marsh 'wicked', well no one much likes this mixed-up woman, but compared with some of those Galloway has shaken hands with, she is a saint.

Strange things happen in the house, though, and even to those who watch it. I have fallen in love with Pete Burns.

Friends think I need professional help. He may be a monstrous tranny to some but to me he is magnificent.

On the whole, I disapprove of plastic surgery because people just look like a blander version of what they were. Pete, on the other hand, look looks like an androgynous geisha-cum-fish, has the most fantastic shoes and is very funny. He doesn't do anything for anyone but himself and is the most honest of the lot. I realise that I have competition, as Barrymore is also rather taken with him.

But the great thing is that 'Who dares wins' does not apply in this game, as Galloway will find out. And anyway it's not the winning that counts, it's the falling apart.

Why is everyone gunning for Ruth Kelly? Partly because no one actually thinks she is a real person. The general feeling seems to be that even if someone scores a direct hit she will merely malfunction - requiring a few wires to be soldered together - but she will not be terminated.

Respect. Who is against it? Me. I am against the use of abstract nouns in political discourse. Terror? Respect? Doh! This is meaningless. Teachers who should be respected, for instance, are not, certainly not by the Government, which continues to ignore them. Many teachers have warned that the proposals in the White Paper on Education are unworkable. But they are ignored. Or disrespected, if you ask me. Keep these views private

Keep these views private

Yet another Left-wing commentator tells us her children are too precious to go to state schools.

This time it is Yasmin Alibhai-Brown, whom I like and often agree with. But while none of us can pretend state schools are all wonderful, how they will be helped by being abandoned by the likes of Yasmin, Diane Abbott and Tony Blair is beyond me.

I propose a ban: journalists whose children are privately educated should not comment on the state system. If this were the case we would have fewer scare stories.

Those on the Left should not bore on about their violin-playing protégés - there are enough Right-wingers to do that. They should let the rest of us muddle along with our bog-standard little darlings.

Meningitis advice... from one who knows

Having seen meningitis first hand - as my daughter had it and very luckily survived - I am pleased that the advice about its symptoms is changing. Everyone looks for the rash but sometimes by the time the spots appear it is already too late. We have become obsessed with the tumbler test. The symptoms of pallor, blotchiness, blue lips and cold hands and feet are the ones to look for. My other advice would be to go straight to your nearest hospital, not your GP, as that is where you will end up if your child is seriously ill.